Follow The Cops Back Home
by Monroe Happens
Summary: A story about fathers and sons that transcends Time, The Universe, Life and Death. WARNING: May contain carrots.


**_Oh, I only own my words. This is probably going to be an epic story. By epic I mean long. Possibly depressing, hopefully sweet and endearing._**

* * *

It was Tuesday. He could never get the hang of Tuesday. Monday was still fresh in his mind, his never stayed straight, and clean shirts were never to be found until after he returned from work, never prior. Not on Tuesday.

His driver called in sick. His favorite personal car's engine exploded, and he was running late.

"Take the bus. Be a normal person for the day." His mother suggested.

"I don't mind the bus." His father said.

He was very mellow these days. It was part of the agreement that if he wanted to stay and be a part of the family, he had to make serious changes. He did. Sometimes these changes unnerved the boy.

He chose the bus. It was early. He arrived as it left. The second bus, which was overcrowded, arrived ten minutes late. Typical Tuesday.

He signed as he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time.

He didn't care for his job. He would own the company one day and he dreaded every second that led up to this. He was 22 and had until he was 30.

The bus stopped.

He got off.

His prison.

The main offices of Capsule Corp.

"I'd give anything not to have to go in today."

A piano promptly landed on him, killing him instantly.

* * *

Trunks remembers things he is certain that he should not. He can remember learning to walk, vaguely. He remembers his father's joy when he could say certain words in his father native tongue as a toddler.

He remembers dying when he was eight. He remembers how empty he felt and how dark that place had been. Sometimes he dreams about being trapped there. Alone.

Trunks is certain that is when he lost interest in worldly things and people. He taught himself how to smile so his mother wouldn't cry, and if he could properly he feel, he is sure he would love his sister.

The memory of that place, that dark void came to him as he opened his eyes. He was in a strange office. Trunks couldn't feel his body or see it. He was not sure how he was moving and thinking.

A creature with purple skin and horns sat at a desk and appeared to be sorting through paper work. A number counter was on the wall.

"Next." Called the Purple Creature.

Trunks looked around. He is the only person in the room. He stepped forward.

"Hi." He said awkwardly.

"Yes? " The Horned Creature said, clearly irritated.

"What is this place?"

"Your name?" The Creature did not bother to look at him.

"Trunks Briefs."

The Creature stopped fiddling with the paper and looked at him.

"What did you say?"

"Trunks-"

"No."

The Creature went back to the paper on the desk and sorted madly though it.

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes."

Did the Creature really believe he wouldn't know his own name? Trunks did not like this. Where was his body? Where was he?

"What _is_ this place?"

"You are not scheduled to die for another 200 years! What did you _do_?"

That word. His lack of body.

"_What_."

"I have to call this in. Of course it would happen on _my_ shift."

"I'm dead."

His world was ending, had ended.

"Oh, noticed that did you?" The Creature snapped.

"Trunks?"

He turned.

A much larger creature greeted him..

"This way please."

The surroundings transformed. He was now in an entirely different office setting.

"This must be very inconvenient for you." The Large Creature said. He came around and sat at the desk. It motioned for Trunks to take a seat. He did.

"I don't understand."

"There has been a hiccup if you will. It doesn't happen very often. The universe is in constant balance. It needs to be for everything to run smoothly. Life, death, ying, yang." He used his hands to demonstrate weighing.

"Okay."

"Your death, while awkward for you, is a problem for everyone else."

The Creature leaned forward.

"Your body is a reward. We held it so you could return to it, however since you were a bit too eager to join us, it is no longer in our possession."

"What does that mean."

"There was a minor lapse in security at one of our lower levels. An inmate is missing and we believe they were able to come into possession of your body. Because of the current imbalance, the dead are able to go for joy rides in certain unclaimed vessels."

"Someone stole my body."

"Yes, if you would like."

"Who?"

"That, we do not know for certain."

"Are they still here?"

"Ah."

The Creature had dreaded this.

"Since you died before your time, once a consciousness rejoined your body, the vessel, it returned to your last location where you were alive."

"Can I get my body back?"

"It is possible, yes. However, in the meantime, you are granted the ability to inhabit the vessel of who is inhabiting yours. "

"You said you didn't know who had my body."

"We won't until you come through the portal."

* * *

New eyes. Glorious new life. The air, the sun the sounds! Ah! Bless this. He stood up. New body. New everything. All the things he could do.

"Oh, my God. You're alive!" He looked to his left. A crowd of people had gathered around. He looked down. Blood and bits of piano.

"Oh course I am." He smiled.

"Mr. Briefs, what-how?"

"Life is beautiful." He caressed the startled man's cheek before walking away.

"But your meeting!"

He stopped and considered this. It would be terrible if someone found out he wasn't Trunks. It would be quite obnoxious to have gone to all of this trouble only to have return to that hell.

Yes, he could play along.

"Of course! Lead the way!"

He was going to enjoy this.


End file.
